


paris in the rain

by compendiary



Category: GOT7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 12:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14914992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compendiary/pseuds/compendiary
Summary: jackson is a hopeless romantic but mark is a lost cause too.





	paris in the rain

Mark is pacing on the uneven pavement with his umbrella held tightly in his hands. The weather forecast predicted a bout of rain later in the evening and he’s never one to come outside unprepared. Especially when he’s supposed to meet Jackson.

If Mark doesn’t bother to bring an umbrella with him, they’re both going to end up drenched and down with colds the next day because Jackson definitely wouldn’t bring one. Mark doubts he even owns an umbrella. It’s true that Jackson lives on the wild side, taking risks as they present themselves to him.

The sky looks gloomy from where he stands, but it’s not unusual for the climate in Paris. It can be cheerfully sunny for a split second before grey clouds engulf the sunshine directly after. It’s one of the beauties of living in Paris, he supposes. The lack of predictability keeps things fresh.

He’s about to pull his phone out to give Jackson a call when he hears rushed footsteps from behind him. He spins himself around, shaking his head when he sees Jackson jogging towards him, coming to a stop a meter before him to lean forward and pant.

Jackson has both his hands resting on his knees as he’s hunched over the sidewalk, his breathing uneven as he tries to catch his breath. “I’m sorry… I’m late,” he huffs, looking up slowly. “Did you… wait long?”

Mark shakes his head, reaching over with his fingers to comb Jackson’s hair away from his eyes. “No, you doughnut,” he whispers, patting Jackson’s face gently afterwards. “Why’d you run till you’re all out of breath?”

“I’m not out of breath,” Jackson argues, standing up straight. “I’m training my lungs to take in more air. How dare you say I’m unfit?”

“I didn’t say you were unfit.”

“Is that it? I’m not good enough for you anymore?” Jackson dramatically recites, taking the umbrella from Mark’s hand. “What’d you bring this thing for?”

Mark sighs, rolling his eyes. He lets Jackson link their arms and pull him along as they begin to walk. Where to, Mark doesn’t care to ask. “It’s going to rain later,” he says lazily, watching the way his boyfriend swings the umbrella in his hand as he walks. “But I don’t think you care.”

“It’s romantic for couples to spend time in the rain together. Like in The Devil Wears Prada. I’m pretty sure there was a rainy scene there.”

“No, Jackson, I don’t think there was.”

Jackson snorts, their footsteps coming to a halt when he stops them at a traffic light at an intersection. “Whatever, chick-flick connoisseur. Anyway, where are we having dinner, my love?”

Mark smiles, having already anticipated Jackson’s question. Jackson has never been one for careful, detailed planning. He’s more of bursts of spontaneity, much like the European weather. But it’s something that Mark loves about him.

They’re _kind of_ polar opposites—Mark likes to know what he’s getting himself into but Jackson’s the type to wait and see. Maybe that’s why they make such a good pair. They share the small details in their personalities like love languages, and although they’re different when compared on the surface, they’re rather similar in essence.

“I made a reservation at our favourite place,” Mark replies, looking around to get his bearings right on their current location.

“Oh!” Jackson exclaims, tugging at Mark’s sweater sleeve when the pedestrian light turns green. “What a coincidence that we’re heading that way, then. My mind’s keyed into yours a lot more than you think.”

Mark laughs, letting his shoulder bump into Jackson’s lightly as they walk in tandem. “You’re an idiot, do you know that?”

“Like I said, we’re sharing our subconscious. I definitely know.”

It’s stupid that Jackson would agree to Mark’s teasing without defending himself, but it’s even stupider that Mark’s heart skips a beat when Jackson directs a crinkly-eyed smile his way.

 

* * *

 

They’ve been to this restaurant hundreds of times, give or take. They’ve only been living in Paris for over a year, but they’ve eaten here every other day since they moved here. It’s not surprising that the servers already know them by their first names and even have a table saved just for them even when they don’t call in to reserve it.

Jackson takes his usual seat and sets the umbrella right next to him. He makes a point to flip through the menu although Mark can already recite his usual order even down to the last trivial request.

Their server, a young Italian boy named Matteo, hurries over to take the lit candle off the table, probably taking precaution after the trouble they caused a couple of visits ago when Jackson set a napkin on fire by accident. “Do you want to take another look at the menu or would you like your usuals?” he asks, blowing out the candle.

Mark raises his eyebrow at Jackson who cheekily smiles at him to go ahead and order. “I’ll have the chef’s special today and Jackson…”

“Raclette,” Jackson enthuses, looking far too pleased to be given free reign at choosing his unhealthy dinner.

Matteo doesn’t look surprised that Jackson’s ordering the cheesy dish he had just two days ago. “And the gougères to start?”

Jackson’s eyes light up at the mention of the cheese puffs and Mark doesn’t have the heart to say no. Even though Jackson didn’t even ask in the first place. “Yes please,” Jackson nods earnestly. “Can we also get the onion soup, with more cheese.”

“Why do you even bother taking our orders whenever we come here?” Mark asks jokingly as Matteo collects their menus.

“I have a dream that Jackson will order something without cheese one day,” Matteo answers, making Mark laugh at Jackson’s expense.

“I once tried the duck confit!” Jackson argues, pouting a bit.

Mark reaches over to pat the top of Jackson’s head. “Sure you did, bub,” he consoles him. “Sure you did.”

Jackson doesn’t stop pouting until his gougères arrive.

 

* * *

 

True to the weather forecast, it’s raining by the time they have to leave the restaurant. The umbrella is barely large enough to fit the both of them under it, but they make do. The rain isn’t terribly heavy and Mark feels one of his shoulders get damp, but he tries to make sure Jackson isn’t getting wet because he has the weaker immunity between the both of them.

The streetlights are dim and the walk home isn’t as short as they expected, but it’s a quiet and calm stroll underneath the moonlight so it doesn’t really bother them.

The peak of the Eiffel Tower is visible in the distance, lit up with bright lights and looking as picturesque as ever. It’s the perfect backdrop for a romance movie and Jackson isn’t blind to it.

“The mood tonight is great, isn’t it?” Jackson breaks the silence to say as they approach a large water fountain in the middle of a park. “Look, the moon,” he whispers, gesturing towards the reflection of the moon in the body of water.

It looks oddly artistic.

They stop walking to admire the small ripples forming on the water as the raindrops break the surface.

“Hey,” Jackson takes ahold of the umbrella, and Mark can only guess what he has planned. “This is the perfect opportunity to stage a rom-com scene.”

Mark groans, already regretting having let go of the umbrella. “You’re not going to get us wet, are you?”

“Bingo,” Jackson confirms, lowering the umbrella. He lets it fall to the ground with a thud. Thankfully, the wind isn’t strong, so the umbrella remains tipped over where he left it.

“How is this even remotely romantic?”

Jackson laughs as the raindrops hit his face, blinking to get the water out of his eyes. “It is,” he insists, his hands coming up to cup Mark’s face. “You don’t read enough Nicholas Sparks to understand how romantic this is.”

“Whatever, drama queen,” Mark snaps, closing his eyes. “Can you just kiss me already so we can leave?”

He hears Jackson chuckle before he presses his lips firmly against Mark’s. There’s a certain freshness to kissing under the rain, regardless of how cliché it may seem. Jackson’s lips are warm in contrast to the cold rain, and his palms at the side of Mark’s face provide a source of heat that balances out his body’s temperature.

Mark pretends he doesn’t feel the magic.

Jackson is giggling as they part. Mark opens his eyes to see Jackson’s eyes still fixated on him. Jackson’s thumbs are gently caressing his cheeks and there’s an undeniable air of romance to the entire experience. Mark would rather die than let Jackson know, though.

“We’re wet,” Mark deadpans to Jackson’s delight. “You’re going to get sick.”

Jackson remains unbothered. “I have you to take care of me,” he states as a matter of fact. “Aren’t you glad we moved to Paris?”

There’s a part of Mark that thanks Paris for all the magic that the city has brought to their lives, but there’s another part of him that knows that they would still be like this in any other place. He nods anyway. “Every day.”

A high-pitched laugh escapes Jackson’s lips as he leans forward to rest his forehead against Mark’s. “Let’s stay like this for a bit more,” he says. His eyes are shining as they reflect the moonlight.

“Alright,” Mark agrees, unable to stop the ends of his lips from quirking upwards into a smile.

Jackson is a hopeless romantic but he supposes that he’s one too.

**Author's Note:**

> written to lauv’s [paris in the rain](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kOCkne-Bku4). idk what i’m doing lol
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/jiaerwang/) || [tumblr](http://maenjeongsin.tumblr.com/)


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